


Hard to Break

by RoaringRaina



Series: Mankai Mental Health Company [2]
Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: (unless you havent read the first autumn troupe story then it does have spoilers), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Health Issues, No Spoilers, taichi im sorry bb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:13:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26567125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoaringRaina/pseuds/RoaringRaina
Summary: Self harm had been a very easy habit to roll into. It had been accidental for Taichi. His fingernails had caught onto his skin and tore it open slightly. Small beads of red had formed and crystalised just as quickly.But the damage had been done.
Relationships: Fushimi Omi & Nanao Taichi, Implied (onesided) taiyuki, implied mukuyuki, this is a friendship fic omi and taichi are not romantically involved at all
Series: Mankai Mental Health Company [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1891930
Comments: 14
Kudos: 85





	Hard to Break

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warning: implied/referenced self-harm. 
> 
> There are no graphic depictions of self-harm but there are mentions of scars and different materials used to create these scars. Please please take care of yourself and skip this one if you cannot handle this kind of stuff!!! Take care of yourself first and foremost!!

Habits are hard to break. Especially bad habits, originating from equally bad places.

Scar tissue is even harder to break. 

Nanao Taichi knows this like no one else. 

It’s a warm summer evening. Most of the Mankai Company are outside, basking in the evening sun. Omi is helping set up the barbecue, along with some of the other adults, which left Taichi to his own devices. 

He had taken refuge in their room, the door locked and praying no one would ask him questions. Taichi didn’t like locking the door, mostly because he disliked keeping secrets. He realises how pathetic that sounds, considering how he entered the Company. Considering everything he had done. Everything he had done for a chance to stand in the spotlight. 

But he had been forgiven. 

Taichi still can’t believe that. He still can’t believe they looked at him, looked at all the misfortune he had brought them and forgave him. The hurt he caused, the jealousy and desperation that drove him to hurt the people that cared so much for him. They had forgiven everything. 

_Everything_. 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t paid his debts. His fingers still hurt from helping Yuki sew costumes and he still didn’t like washing the dishes. But Taichi did like where he was. He liked being able to say “I’m home!” after a long day at school. He liked waking up to the scent of something delicious and he liked Omi patting his head and surprising him with some cheese hotdogs while he did his homework. 

Taichi loved the Mankai Company. He loved how safe they made him feel, how well-liked. That the fact he didn’t have a girlfriend was okay. That not being the most popular guy in the room was alright. That his acting wasn’t the greatest but good enough. 

He liked having learnt that phrase, “good enough”. 

He was good enough. 

To the others at least. 

Taichi sighs, pulling his sleeves down over his lower arms. He feels pathetic and dumb. He knows it’s summer. He knows everyone will be running around in short sleeves or tank tops. They’ll ask him questions and that’s exactly what he doesn’t want. Everyone will worry and what good will that do? 

Taichi quickly stuffs the bandages and tissues covered in red in the bin, hiding them underneath other papers. A fool proof plan, no one will know. Especially not Omi who would throw a fit if he saw. 

Taichi hates lying, but he hates lying to Omi the most. Omi supported him right from the start, being kind and understanding right from the beginning. He was the first to figure out the bad things he did and all he did was comfort him. 

Taichi hates betraying that trust. 

Taichi hates himself even more. 

Taichi pats his arms down gently. The skin is still sensitive, despite the bandages hiding old and new cuts. He wants to stop it, he really does. But he doesn't know how. 

Self harm had been a very easy habit to roll into. It had been accidental for Taichi. His fingernails had caught onto his skin and tore it open slightly. Small beads of red had formed and crystalised just as quickly. 

But the damage had been done. 

Taichi had marvelled at his skin, at the sensation that left him spellbound. The way his skin turned red but those stark white lines remained. The way the red on his skin faded but the lines turned pink to dark red. 

Taichi had sworn never to go further than that. Just his nails. He knew that wasn't okay, but on days the tension in his body didn't have an outlet, this sufficed. On the days he has cried up all his tears, on the days his mind was exhausted from smiling and pretending to be fine, this sufficed. 

Until it didn't suffice anymore. 

Until the voice in his head demanded more in order to be silenced. 

Soon Taichi found himself in the world of sharper tools. The scent of antiseptic became part of most of his evenings. He learned the most efficient way to bandage up cuts, he learned to tolerate the heat of long sleeves in summer. He learned to misdirect the genuine concern of others. 

Taichi figures that's when it all started going downhill. It became effortless to lie, to think of excuses. Maybe that's why he was so shocked the God Troupe didn't appreciate his acting skills. 

He had been relying on them, surviving on them even, for so long, how could they not be enough? 

Taichi had truly spiralled then. If his acting, objectively the only good part about him, wasn't enough, how could he ever hope to be enough himself? 

His skin had suffered heavily after that revelation. 

But as time passed, he found himself in better company. Taichi had redeemed himself, he thought as he pats his face, rubbing his hands over his cheeks. He practices his smile, a wide smile, a softer one. Once he settles on a relaxed one, he allows his shoulders to droop down. He had redeemed himself because he didn’t punish his body every time he made a mistake. He had stopped hiding in plain sight to seek the relief of pressing his nails deep into his palm. He had stopped biting the inside of his cheek until a coppery taste flowed and made him want to gag. That accounted for something.

Right?

Taichi shakes his head, wanting the bad feelings to leave him alone. He can’t smile if the voice in his head tells him he shouldn’t be allowed to smile. He’ll just laugh a bit louder, drown out the voice. He’s going to have fun. It’ll be fun. It _has_ to be fun. 

It’s a lovely summer evening, they’re having barbecue, they’ll probably light some fireworks. There will be bad karaoke, the adults will probably get drunk and crack more jokes. It’ll be fun. 

Taichi feels a genuine smile form, he really loves the Mankai Company. They truly feel like a little family, mismatched and uncommon. But so very genuine. So warm, so full of hope and trust. Taichi should feel honoured he’s allowed to be a part of it but it makes him sad too. Makes him sad he still can’t control his emotions well enough he has to feel in other ways. 

Taichi shakes his head again. He’s not doing this. Sad hours were over a long time ago. Time for Loud and Happy Taichi to take the stage. That’s his favourite role after all. 

Taichi makes sure his sleeves cover up his latest loss of control and he steps out into the courtyard. He skips a little, the scent of roasted meat his guide to the festivities. The smell of good food and the promise of a warm and full stomach, makes him genuinely happy and the spring in his step becomes greater. 

“Taicchan!!” Kazunari waves enthusiastically, from where he’s sitting next to Misumi. Taichi makes a brief note of their intertwined hands but says nothing about it. Everyone had seen that one coming - everyone knew that Misumi had a crush on Kazunari and everyone knew Kazunari had a crush on Misumi. 

Nobody knew what happened when they got together though. Suddenly one morning, they sat down at the breakfast table, looking incredibly tired for people that had just woken up and announced they were “besties in love-love”. They even made a triangle with their hands together, that was what peak romance felt like to Taichi. 

He wishes he had someone to be in love with. He wants to be popular, he wants someone to go on dates with and have fun with. Someone that will look at him like Kazunari looks at Misumi and how Misumi looks at Kazunari. 

Instead of giving in to those wistful wishes, Taichi waves at Kazunari and yells excitedly, “Kazu-kun!!” 

Yuki turns his head to their noise and grumbles something under his breath. Muku reprimands him gently and Taichi smiles widely in response. He feels better already, this is just what he needed, be surrounded by his favourite people. To find comfort in the daily interactions that have formed between everyone. 

Taichi watches a bit longer how Muku rests his hand on Yuki’s shoulder and how Yuki casually leans into the touch. It warps the warm feeling that just got comfortable nestling itself into Taichi’s chest into something painful and cruel. 

Taichi isn’t jealous. Not of Muku, not of Yuki. He just wishes Yuki would show him that kind of patience. That Yuki’s eyes would soften when looking at him like they do when he looks at Muku. 

Taichi isn’t jealous, he knows that to be fact. It’s just an unpleasant feeling in his chest. He has plenty of those, this is nothing new. This feeling in his chest feels just a bit more uncomfortable and heavy than the others. It makes him so uncomfortable he wants to turn around and hide in his room. 

Instead, Taichi powers through, laughing loudly at a joke Kazunari makes that doesn’t warrant such a loud laugh. But no one bats an eye at him, he’s known for being loud. He’s the moodmaker, the fire cracker that explodes and explodes making people “ooh” and “ah” at the light show he produces. 

It’s not like anyone ever looks twice at fizzled out fireworks, do they? 

Taichi shakes his head and quickly shuffles in line to get a plate of food. He spots Omi manning the grill, accompanied by Izumi who seems adamant about adding more spices to the meat and Sakyo who in turn is reprimanding her on the expenses of this party. Taichi likes the way they bicker, it’s very cute. 

He makes eye contact with Omi, who was watching them with equal amounts of affection in his eyes. He subtly tilts his head at Taichi and lifts a meat skewer. Taichi feels his face break into a smile, without his permission, and beams at Omi. 

“Omi-kun! That looks delish!” Taichi physically brightens as Omi lets him skip the queue and puts a few meat skewers on his plate. Omi grins as he adds a cheese hotdog. 

“Aren’t you warm, dressed like that?” Omi asks casually, adding more meat on top of the grill. 

Taichi says nothing in response and instead watches the oil sizzle around it, watching it boil slightly and splash around. He weirdly relates. He wonders what the grill would feel like against his skin. A morbid curiosity, another step he doesn’t want to take. 

He shakes his head and smiles at Omi, “I’m sorry I couldn’t hear you over the beautiful sizzling of that meat!” 

Omi shakes his head at him with an exaggerated sigh. “One track mind, are you hungry?” Omi’s voice is gentle as he tosses a few vegetables on Taichi’s plate, ignoring his yelp. “You need to eat these, they’re healthy. Good for your skin.” 

Taichi feels his smile freeze for a second, what does Omi think he knows? Taichi’s eyes zero in on Omi’s smile, it’s soft. The dimple shows, one corner of his lip is pulled up higher. That means his smile is genuine. His eyes are glinting with something akin to playfulness too. 

Or are they? 

Taichi can’t tell because the glint is gone before he can properly figure it out. Omi turns his attention to the grill, mumbling something about how Azuma told him grilled vegetables promote the natural recovery of the skin and Taichi nods absentmindedly. 

“Load me up with some veggies then,” he ends up saying, holding out his plate. “I want beautiful skin like Azuma-san!” 

“Don’t we all?” Omi laughs as he gives Taichi another spoonful of veggies. “Are you hanging in there alright?” 

“Perfectly! I can handle an extra bit of broccoli!” Taichi glares at the greens on his plate and Omi laughs. Taichi watches him laugh, watches how a hand rests on his chest and his head is thrown back. Taichi smiles too, he likes making people laugh. It feels nice. Spread the serotonin around. Spread some happiness around. Distract him from his internal worries and sadness. 

“Oi! Nanao!” 

Taichi freezes up at Sakyo’s stern tone, turning around slowly. Sakyo looks up and down, his eyes lingering on his long sleeves in a way that’s so unsubtle Taichi wonders if his eyes aren’t playing tricks on him. It feels weird seeing Sakyo so physically distraught, he would let a part of his usually composed aura slip. 

“Yes, Sakyo-san?” Taichi smiles, showing off his plate. “I’m eating a balanced meal!” 

“You’re also eating half of the meat we ordered, I already told this dunce here that we’re on a tight budget but she totally disregarded my worries.” Sakyo points at Izumi with a raised eyebrow and sighs deeply, the action seems to wear him out. 

“Ah, I see..” Taichi’s voice trails off slowly as Izumi grumbles a response, poking Sakyo with a meat skewer. 

Taichi really admires Izumi’s strength and courage to not only make Sakyo annoyed but then to annoy him further without a care in the world. He wishes he was that strong, wishes he had that much courage. Instead, he’s just himself. Just Taichi, someone who came here as a spy. Who’s now a moodmaker, who will fizzle out like fireworks. 

The thought makes him sad and it takes Sakyo to put a hand on his shoulder to drag him out of it. Taichi makes up an excuse, one that Sakyo seems to buy. Maybe his acting skills were worth something after all. 

The rest of the evening speeds by, Taichi doesn’t feel out of place. His mind manages to hold it together long enough so he can follow conversations and joke along. It makes Taichi wonder why he resorts to the habits he has. Things can go well, so it must be his fault then that he can’t always hold onto this happy feeling, right? 

Right? 

Taichi shakes his head, wills the bad thoughts away. He is _not_ doing this now. Not out in the open. Not where everyone can see him. Not that they’d look that closely anyway, Taichi thinks bitterly, watching how different groups of people clump together. Taichi doesn’t know where to go. Omi is still at the barbecue, chilling with Muku and Yuki who seem to be talking about something. Kazunari’s attention is completely taken by Misumi, his eyes sparkling and his smile even brighter than normal. 

It makes him feel a little bit lonely. 

Taichi knows he’s loved. He knows he’s important and that there are people out there who he could confide to if he wanted to. If he felt like he couldn’t bear the heavy weight of his own thoughts and insecurities, there are plenty of people who will offer him to help carry it. 

But how do you open a topic like that? How do you tell someone that some days you feel so little, you resort to the things Taichi has done to his skin? How he started from an accident with morbid curiosity but ended up falling down a rabbit hole of habitual self-inflicted pain. 

Taichi sighs deeply, pulling his shoulders up to his ears and dropping them with a sense of finality. Some of the younger Mankai members are heading off to their rooms and Taichi decides to join them. He feels empty and tired of the day. He silently prays Omi stays out a bit longer so he doesn’t have to respond to any questions. 

He slips away from the group, not sticking around to join the chorus of “good nights” that fill the courtyard. He pointedly ignores the feeling of someone staring at him and beelines for his room. 

Taichi doesn’t usually crave solitude. He does not like being all alone and by himself, but as he closes the door behind him, it feels nice to not have to keep a smile on his face. He allows himself to fall onto his bed, his legs dangling off the side. He groans into his pillow, the exhaustion of the day and social interaction catching up to him. 

The door closes softly and Taichi jumps up. 

“Sorry, did I startle you?” Omi flashes him an apologetic smile. 

“It’s okay!” Taichi beams. He tries his best at a convincing smile but Omi’s eyes sadden at him instead. Taichi curses himself mentally, what kind of actor can’t even fake a smile properly? 

Omi sits down on the edge of his bed and Taichi pulls his legs closer to himself to make space. Taichi watches Omi bite his lip and turns his head to watch him. He nudges Omi with his knee, which pulls Omi from his thoughts. 

“Taichi, you know that you can always talk to me about things, right?” Omi asks, his voice unsure. He has his hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt and Taichi feels like something’s wrong. Omi isn’t usually this nervous, not with him at least. 

“Of course Omi-kun!” Taichi leans closer to Omi and grins widely. 

“Then, why do you try so hard to hide the bandages?” Omi’s question shoots deep and hard and Taichi feels like he’s been punched. 

“Huh?” is his eloquent response. “What do you mean?” 

Omi’s eyes sadden as he gets up from Taichi’s bed. He walks over to Taichi’s trash can and Taichi can feel the blood drain from his face. Omi reaches to grab the trash can and Taichi lets out a small wail. 

“Please don’t!” Taichi can feel tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “Please don’t do that!”

Omi turns to face Taichi, his face overflowing with sadness. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

Taichi feels his body turn cold and he shakes his head. “I don’t.” 

Omi nods, “I understand. It must be going hard through it all, but why are you going through it all by yourself like this? Are you not happy here?”

Omi’s voice rises in tension as he speaks, with tears building up in his eyes. He looks at Taichi with such a broken expression, Taichi feels his blood run cold. Everything in his body screams to abort and he wants to run away. He wants to get up and leave this room behind. Leave Omi’s questioning and pitying eyes behind. 

“You know Omi-kun, I am genuinely happy sometimes.” Taichi leans back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. “I am happy and those moments spark something inside me. Make me feel something.” 

“Then why-

“I said they spark. They don’t burn.” Taichi turns to Omi who looks like he’s been struck across the face and offers him a pathetic smile. “Happiness doesn’t last. It flickers and with the smallest gust of wind it dies out. This burns. It lasts longer than any happy feeling ever could.”

Omi doesn’t say anything. He looks like he has a lot he wants to say, looks like he doesn’t know what words would convey it best, if the feeling he holds in his chest is conveyable at all. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Taichi says, his voice monotone and his face still sporting that hollow smile. “I know it’s hard to see and to hear about. I won’t bother you about it further.” 

“You would never- 

“Good night Omi-kun.”

Taichi turns off the lights on his side of the room and prays Omi will drop the issue. He turns his back to Omi’s side of the room for added emphasis and squeezes his eyes shut. He can hear Omi rummaging around, a few sighs accompanying his movements. 

“Good night, Taichi.” Omi’s voice sounds strained, as if he’s holding back tears. 

Why would Omi cry though? The thought of Omi caring enough to cry about him tastes bitter in Taichi’s head and he hides his face in his pillow. 

Taichi’s breathing evens out slowly, sleep claiming him slowly and painfully as thoughts whirl inside his head. 

*** 

When Taichi awakens, it’s with a jolt and a shock. He sits up on his bed, sweat glueing his hair to his forehead. The beams of moonlight tell him it’s way too early to be up. In the dark he sees Omi’s silhouette and he sighs relieved. 

He sits upright, the pain in his lower arms slowly growing more profound as he becomes more aware of it. The moonlight vaguely illuminates the lines on his arms and Taichi pulls his legs up to rest his chin on his knees. He feels uneasy, his mind is clouded and yet he feels numb at the same time. He looks at Omi, who sleeps soundlessly and peacefully. 

Taichi feels envy. He wishes he could sleep so peacefully, wishes he could turn his brain off for eight hours a night. Wishes he could wake up energised in the morning, ready to tackle the new day with genuine optimism instead of his mediocre attempts, pessimism masked by his loud voice. 

Taichi hates feeling like this. 

He feels helpless and worthless. The scars on his arms will cause trouble with Yuki again, who will notice when he gets measured for the new play outfits. It’s almost autumn, it’s their turn on the stage soon. How can he even stand on that stage when all he’s doing is cause a ruckus and problems? When he’s not even strong enough to break this streak of self-inflicted harm? 

The thoughts make Taichi want to rip his skin apart. To chase after a burning sensation. Anything in order to properly feel something. Something that’ll linger. 

Something that’ll leave an impression. 

Taichi’s thoughts wander to the grill, how the oil had sizzled. 

The lightbulb of bad ideas in his head flashes and lights up. Taichi wastes no time kicking the covers off him, slipping out of bed barefoot. He sneaks out of their room, wanting to leave his envy and other negative feelings behind. His new idea fuels him with energy that leaves him with a tight feeling in his chest and he nearly sprints to the kitchen, not caring who’ll hear him. He is not as cold as he had hoped he would be, the summer nights still proving to be warm enough he can run around wearing his pyjama shorts and t-shirt. 

Once in the kitchen, Taichi drops to the floor, effortlessly hiding himself from view. He unwraps the bandages around his arms, examining the lines on his skin. He clicks his tongue at himself, those lines a physical reminder of his weakness. 

He shakes his head forcefully, slightly dizzying himself in the process. He didn’t come here to lament his sad fate, he came here for something. 

Taichi gets up and opens various cabinets to find the grill. He wasn’t on cleaning duty, so he doesn’t know where it disappeared to. As seconds pass by, Taichi feels himself grow more frantic as he looks for the grill. The scars on his arm twitch, his tapping against the countertop impatiently as an uneasy feeling consumes him. 

He takes a deep breath to ground himself and pulls the last cabinet he hasn’t checked open. He finds the grill, and the tingling in his fingers instantly return. There’s a small voice in his head screaming at him not to do this, to put the grill away. To grab some ice instead. Pick up an elastic band instead. 

Taichi’s hands hover over the grill for just a second, nibbles his lip and with a deep sigh he takes the grill out and puts it on the counter. 

“There you are-- 

Taichi turns around so fast, he tips the grill over which falls into the sink. He watches in shock, like a deer in headlights as Omi closes the distances between them in large steps. 

“Are you alright?” Omi’s voice is laced with concern but Taichi can’t think. His chest hurts, there’s something stinging in his arm and all the voice in his head can do is laugh. 

Taichi looks up at Omi, and opens his mouth to say something. No sound passes by his lips and it shocks him. Omi’s hands wrap around his hands, squeezing tightly. It grounds Taichi, and this time when he opens his mouth it’s to apologise. To say he’s sorry for slipping out, sorry for tipping the grill down, sorry for making a mess, sorry for being here, sorry for almost ruining Mankai, sorry for existing. 

Instead of apologies, only sobs come out. 

Heavy tears stream down his face and Taichi wails and wails. His legs feel like jelly and Taichi feels himself spiralling and losing control. Omi squeezes his hand, allows Taichi’s body to be wrecked by the sobs and tears and regrets that just won’t leave him alone. Taichi’s brain is scampering to find words to express what he feels but every feeling he tries to access just makes him cry louder. 

Omi is surprisingly sturdy. He just squeezes his hand tightly. He holds onto him and softly pulls him into a hug. Taichi sobs until Omi’s t-shirt is soaked with his tears. 

Taichi calms down as Omi hums a song they sang at the barbecue, rubbing circles on his back. “It’s okay, it’ll be okay,” he whispers and Taichi genuinely wonders if that’s true. 

Will things ever be okay? How can he be okay after all the things he’s done? How can he find it in himself to forgive himself? 

Omi appears to feel this discomfort radiating off Taichi and pulls away from the hug. “You don’t believe me, do you?” 

Taichi shakes his head, his shoulders drooping down. He doesn’t have the energy to explain why he doesn’t. He doesn’t think Omi would understand anyway. It’s not like Omi would know what it’s like to deal with feelings of worthlessness. Of not fitting in when he is the true package. Taichi wants to throw up, how dare he feel jealous when Omi is currently giving up sleep to check up on him. 

What kind of terrible person is he? 

“I don’t think you’re a bad person for not being happy I followed you here.” Omi moves past Taichi, to the fridge. He pulls out a carton of milk and Taichi wonders if he’s going to be treated to a cup of warm milk. 

He feels like laughing, Izumi always makes him warm milk too whenever she notices he’s feeling under the weather. Was warm milk the Mankai Company Family Remedy? 

Omi seems to notice Taichi’s unease and shoots him an apologetic smile. He puts the carton back in the fridge. “Izumi rubs off on all of us, doesn’t she?” 

Taichi nods enthusiastically, that he can admit freely. “She’s like a ray of sunlight! Always brightening people’s days up. I wonder what we would do without her?” 

“We for sure wouldn’t be here,” Omi comments. He watches Taichi from a distance, his eyes darting to his arms and back to his face. 

Taichi knows what’s coming. That doesn’t make it any easier. 

“Can you show me your arms?” Omi asks, and Taichi’s eyes widen. 

There it is. Taichi wants to hide, knowing that it’s coming _really_ doesn’t make it any easier. He can feel himself trembling, his legs threatening to give out underneath him. 

Omi seems to sense his fears and worries and quickly adds, “I won’t judge you, I won’t say anything. I just need to see for myself. I won’t say anything, I promise.” 

Taichi slowly nods. “You won’t tell anyone else?” he asks, his voice small as he slowly turns his arms up so Omi can see what he’s done to himself. 

Omi’s hands hover above the scars and fresher wounds, his hands trembling. Taichi can see Omi holding back tears, but he sticks to his promise and doesn’t say anything. 

“It’s a very hard habit to break,” Taichi whispers. “I don’t know how, I’m not strong enough.” 

“I don’t think that’s true.” Omi’s hand hover above his shoulder and he ultimately gives him a gentle pat on the head instead. “I think this is a very hard habit to break. But you know what I also think?” 

Taichi shakes his head, “What do you think?” 

“I think you’re even harder to break.” 

Taichi lets out a self-deprecating laugh at that. He stops when he sees how Omi’s eyebrows furrow and his expression morphs into worry. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Omi shakes his head and runs a finger across the scars on Taichi’s arm. “I understand the feeling. I understand how scars tell stories you’d rather keep hidden.” He pokes the scar at his chin. “I know, I understand.” 

Taichi nods. He knows Omi understands. He admires that a lot about Omi. The strength to have made mistakes, to own up to them. To find the strength and courage to change his life for the better. “I know, I admire that about you,” he blurts out and Omi grins. 

“Thank you. I admire you too.” Omi scratches the back of his neck awkwardly as Taichi’s eyes fill up with tears again. Did the reservoir never run out? Relentlessly, Omi continues his train of thought, “You made mistakes, did things you’re not proud of and now you’re here. You had your bad days, but you know something? You made it through every single one of your bad days. You’re still here. You’re still alive. Lots of things tried to break you but you haven’t been broken. I truly think you’re hard to break.”

Taichi blinks up at Omi, tears quietly leaving his eyes. “Do you really think that?” he whispers, scared to seek the validation he had been craving for so long. 

Omi takes him up and nods. “I really think so,” he says firmly. 

It’s enough to open the floodgates once more and Taichi cries. His fingers itch, and he needs to do everything in his power not to dig his fingernails into his skin. Discomfort, relief, hurt, happiness. Multiple emotions, on different ends of the spectrum flow through him and he feels so overwhelmed he does not know what to do. 

“Take deep breaths.” comes Omi’s voice through the haze of different voices screaming different things and Taichi decides to take a chance and listens to Omi’s voice. He trusts Omi. Trusts him more than he trusts himself right now. He stands up straight and takes a deep breath, holds it for a few seconds and exhales slowly. 

With every deep breath he takes, Taichi can feel the fog in his head clearing. It’s quieter, the voices are being drowned out and he feels more at ease. It’s simpler like this. He has a thought and it’s the only one he has to deal with it instead of struggling against multiple at once. 

Taichi allows his legs to give out underneath him and sits on the floor. His legs feel like jelly, as they often do after a bad crying session. His head hurts, but he also relishes in this moment of complete emotional equilibrium. How everything has a place, how his emotions are not running rampant. 

Taichi feels like himself for the first time in a long time. He feels calm, he feels capable of standing up to the voices in his head. 

Taichi realistically knows it’s only for now that he feels this sense of strength, that it’s only after he’s stumbled down he can feel calm and has the mental capacity to gather his courage and try again. 

He looks at his arms, more forgiving than he has in years. 

“I want to stop doing this.” Taichi’s voice rings out clearly in the kitchen as he balls his hands into fists. “I really want to stop doing this.” 

“I know you can, you’re hard to break Taichi.” Omi’s voice is kind, supportive. It’s just what Taichi needs to hear. 

He gets up, allowing Omi to help him regain his balance. He grins widely, feeling like it’s genuine and not faked for once. Not practiced. Taichi feels a warm feeling pool in his chest and in a split second of surprise recognises it as resolve. Resolve to do his best to break this bad habit.

Not as Taichi, the moodmaker. Not as Taichi, the spy. Not as Taichi, fizzled out fireworks. 

But as Nanao Taichi of Mankai Company’s Autumn Troupe.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very very personal story and I hope my feelings came across through Taichi’s struggles. I’m sorry baby but projection is a real thing and you had to suffer my precious son ;;
> 
> To anyone who is going through similar struggles as Taichi, please hold onto hope that things will get better one day. Because they will get better, slowly but surely, step by step. It’s in the little things but also remember that getting better isn’t a linear progress - relapses happen and while they suck, they’re part of the thorny road of recovery. I wish you all the strength in the world.
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you have a wonderful day.


End file.
